The bump in the night
She lies in bed, silent.
She knows the sound of his car, footsteps on the stairs, the scratching of the key in the lock. She instinctively wakes up before he arrives, now this ritual is her normal. Her body subconsciously aware and preparing for danger.
Not danger, she tells herself. It's not dangerous, what's coming, it's just that she is so tired, so worn from this expectation from her, the weight of it pulls her deeper into her exhaustion.
It's easier to just let it happen, give him what he wants so she can return to sleep, that's if she can, sleep is more difficult with him here now. Sleep is always more difficult with someone there, she feels vulnerable unless she is alone, covers pulled tight, lower body covered, always.
He doesn't understand she tells herself, it's not his fault, normal relationships are more physical, he's not expecting anything more than normal? He doesn't know what it's like to feel this tired, no one does.
Photos, videos, constant need for dirty talk, his openess about not enjoying "vanilla". She was no stranger to experimentation, but fun and freedom had turned into acts that made her feel uncomfortable, degraded, just an object, sometimes caused her pain. No, she tells herself, he doesn't mean to do that, away from that side of him, he has been so good to her, her friends like him. She just needs to give him what he wants enough to make him happy, then he won't get as frustrated and it won't be so bad? She just needs to be enough to push through the tiredness.
She hears the sound of clothes hitting the floor, the lifting of the covers. She has attempted covering her lower body even beneath the covers, but this never stops him.
His cold skin, not yet warmed from coming indoors from the cold, suddenly presses against her back, she shudders, involuntarily.
Nothing is said but a hand instantly reaches round, pulling her clothes to the side, getting access. She had tried to push the hand away before, even tried moving, pressing her thighs together, making access more difficult in the hope that this would be enough for him to stop, but it wasn't. This was expected and if she didn't comply he would push harder and make a point of "waking her up", become more aggressive, making her engage with him even more. Letting it just happen meant it would be quick and she could at least try to go back to sleep.
A cursory attempt to get her in the mood completed, placating himself with the belief that all was well, consent given. He proceeds to take what he considers to be owed. In a few moments with a grunt and a sigh he rolls away.
It was getting easier she thought, letting it happen gave her more precious time to sleep. After all, it was her own fault for not giving him what he wanted more often. Her tiredness was frustrating to him, so this brief compromise was a small price to pay. It wasn't like he was really hurting her or anything?
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A month later she lay in the same place, pain coursing through her, unable to move. How had she got here, how else could she keep him happy without this? No matter what she allowed, how far she allowed him to go her lack of enthusiasm only made him escalate.
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3 months later, he's gone she couldn't keep him happy, she wasn't capable of making any man happy. Too cold, too shut off, not enough.
**********
4 years later she is alone, as she has been since he left her. Now there is no need to compromise, no one expects anything from her, safe, alone in her bed, now fully clothed, door locked and covers pulled all around her body. Always.